hypocrites

stop praying, america, and fucking act.

banksy.co.uk

earlier

my dad was sawing a board. i saw the little picture with a stick figure hand with severed fingers and i wanted to put my hand in the saw, twice.

later, i had an orange in my hand, and i was outside, and there was light fading into darkness, and i wanted to throw the orange into the darkness and watch it fade away into space. it would just keep rising until it slammed and splatted into a satellite's fragile side, and then the whole earth would be without DirecTV and i would smile and say, well there's my good deed for the day!

home

a disconnect. a place to become numb. i don't know why. i only know that i cannot open up. everything's fine on the surface, but since when did i care about the fucking surface?? i inexplicably cannot give of myself here. i stay within. no affection flows. this is supposed to be the place i think about with warm charming little thoughts when i'm in stuck in a rainstorm miles from civilization in a country where i don't speak the language. truth is, i would much rather be there right now, if i could be there with someone with whom i could share love and life.

an emergency vehicle just passed by out on the road. i hope it doesn't slip on the ice. i wish it was taking me to the hospital. it would be an adventure. the EMT's and i could laugh together as they cut open my chest.

reverse sonnette

stop

eschew the rumble.

thou shalt not stumble.

carry this weight and do not fumble.

open your eyes. hear nature grumble.

the jaguar roars as forests tumble

starving while the masses mumble.

STOP!

awake!

do you not understand?

stop building! stop cutting!

consuming, irgnoring

the plea, the cry

of our mother, the sky

the shit that you crave will be your grave.

thou shalt halt. or watch your world crumble.

yes

"In the time of your life, live—so that in that wondrous time you shall not add to the misery and sorrow of the world, but shall smile to the infinite delight and mystery of it."  -- William Saroyan

mountain

my great desire and deep wish is to make a massive impact on the world through the giving of love and joy and wisdom. i have a burden especially for those oppressed of Soul, existing but not LIVING, the walking dead on their way into the mold of mediocrity and greed that our society places so conveniently in their path. i want those without food, water, or opportunity to get it, too. there's a more concrete solution to that, i'll spread awareness about what's happening, spark passion in others to stop it, ask the world for money to buy food, etc. but how do i go about infusing Life into life? the first step is to live it, of course. stop being addicted to obtaining. i have in many regards, but not enough. i want to live radically. i want to make every moment meaningful, to live with intention, driven by a fiery purpose. to never waste a minute of life on things that don't matter. and then what? i think i will find an intersection that is destitute by night and busy by day, and pitch a tent in it. i will not move when the masses curse me and the fact that they are late to a job they don't like to make money to buy things they don't need. i will watch a bird through the netting of the tent and be glad for its example of freedom. i will tell aforementioned commuters to do the same. 

will this work? i don't know. however, the key for me, the finisher of nothing, the starter of little, is to dive in and start in whatever way i can.

"We stand at the bottom of that mountain feeling overwhelmed, feeling doubt, feeling where do I even begin? You begin when you decide to pick up the shovel. You begin when you determine that you will do all it takes, regardless… You begin when you decide that no matter how long it takes, no matter if your undertaking is successful or not – that it’s not the outcome that matters as much as the journey taken - that shoveling matters." (from http://tizitl.blogspot.com) 

things i find beautiful

I.

ONE hour to madness and joy! O furious! O confine me not!
(What is this that frees me so in storms?
What do my shouts amid lightnings and raging winds mean?)
O to drink the mystic deliria deeper than any other man!
O savage and tender achings! (I bequeath them to you my children,
I tell them to you, for reasons, O bridegroom and bride.)

O to be yielded to you whoever you are, and you to be yielded to me
in defiance of the world!
O to return to Paradise! O bashful and feminine!
O to draw you to me, to plant on you for the first time the lips of
a determin'd man.

O the puzzle, the thrice-tied knot, the deep and dark pool, all
untied and illumin'd!
O to speed where there is space enough and air enough at last!
To be absolv'd from previous ties and conventions, I from mine and
you from yours!
To find a new unthought-of nonchalance with the best of Nature!
To have the gag remov'd from one's mouth!
To have the feeling to-day or any day I am sufficient as I am.

O something unprov'd! something in a trance!
To escape utterly from others' anchors and holds!
To drive free! to love free! to dash reckless and dangerous!
To court destruction with taunts, with invitations!
To ascend, to leap to the heavens of the love indicated to me!
To rise thither with my inebriate soul!
To be lost if it must be so!
To feed the remainder of life with one hour of fulness and freedom!
With one brief hour of madness and joy.

-Walt Whitman

II.

III.

When all the tension, sorrow, and fear inside finally breaks and the tears come at last, like rain, all furious and gentle in the same moment.

IV.

Looking back on times of laughter with people that made it mean something eternal.

V.

Fall leaves backlit by the sun while crisp air sears my lungs.

VI.

You. At least, I'm trying.

driving at midnight:thirty, shortly before almost ending a deer's life

I saw the yellow line in the middle of the road curving into the darkness like the spiraling dough of the eternal sticky bun.

leaving it all

We may go
In the footsteps of the Dharma Bums
In the footsteps of Mr. McCandless
Hitch, dive in dumpsters, and sleep under perfect stars
Raise a glorious and defiant middle finger to the system and the status quo.

fear, realitY?
we'll see

Tonight is one for madness
for light in dark corners
and the spewing of soul wisdom
under white stars, with living guitars
dancing in hands trembling for joy

Tonight is one for reaching into chests
to pull out beautiful filthy hearts
to hook to one another's veins
to pump existence into flawed bodies

Tonight is one for raw experience
purest forms of holy communication
smiles and laughs and tears for the ages
great drops of soul-rain breaking down dams of kept in skeleton waters so the flood can free the land by way of beautiful destruction

Tonight is one for doors, not opened but thrown
with forward force off rusty hinges
cast aside like cares and burdens and evil hanging-over monsters of the responsible stale day that now shows its extreme lack of worth

Tonight is for me, it is filled with my longings, my red wishes and blue abstract desires
Tonight has a voice like a megaphone in my ear and it's begging me to come out and play in its vastness and joy and to bring those souls of my endearment along for a collective session of wide-eyed enlightenment, sitting at the feet of wise all-knowing Night and drinking her danger until the sick dawn-elephant stirs, until it raises its head to rise and still we laugh in its face, loving life too much to be anything but mad lunatics, proud of mad lunacy--

and perfection is in those waning moments, drunk with life.

ah perfect madness

We danced free with umbrellas and stuffed animals and small appliances and hangers and granola to the bouncing harmonies of the Of Montreal and then sat crosslegged breathing in the joyous textures of Sigur Ros and the silence while we meditated and then I read to my dear brothers the perfect words of The Prophet about friendship and everybody nodded in the low light and felt each other's souls. And the we made a beautiful apple crisp, ghetto style, using just a hot pot and talked about admiring things. And then we ate it, in all its imperfect glory, sitting around a centerpiece of the moment in which my preserved piranha ate my clock, called "Demise of Time" so as to express the intense desire for beautiful times like these to be able to last or live outside of time. We passed a bottle of passion fruit nectar, taking ecstatic swigs, and later made tea and sipped it in tiny ceramic cups. Jeff smiled and sat there bobbing his head like he does when he's happy or chillling and I could see that Steve, though behind his stoic wall, was being affected, at least, by all this amazingness. And we listened to music of all sorts and discussed time, joy and sorrow, and other random bits of life far into the night. And after all had quieted down and Jeff had gone and Johnny went to bed, Steve and I sat on the couch and felt each other's souls in the silence, once in a while breaking it to utter cryptic truths and shar struggles. I felt so close to these my brothers and realized that all this time I've been spending missing people not in my immediate life should go into deepening these relationships I have here and adding value to these people. I am working to lead people to be free and exposing life as beautiful in the eyes of anyone I meet.

Vesta

Convoco el fuego y la llama naranja como expresion sagrada del amor, la amistad y el espiritu.

stereotyping

zoom out, we're in the same world

eating each other's vegetables and thinking

about each other's colors of life

so stop typing

turn down the stereo

live free of negativity.

i love life

The metals of my experience all crash together and the sparks like fireflies live and rise and grow like fireworks but last, like a warming campfire offering its mesmerising dancing body to stare into and relive all the moments in the flames. Some sparks questions, some answers, some commands, all beautiful, full of life, illuminating who i am.

;

and i wonder
does the heart of the sun
burn as mine does
for you?

thewind

you go: to where
you come: from there
but where is there
and what the fare
to cross so many a border?
lines drawn by men with silken casts on
broken minds, with stealthy crafts and

i will find
you, though your flight is unseen
and your escorts demean all
attempts to glean from your

beauty, wisdom
and i follow, i follow
always i follow
that i might without passport of mind

cross the lines

.

a dead man gave to me life, in his words
flooding my outstretched hand
a wounded heart carries the weight of the world
traversing a monochrome land
and i wonder why
(while i sit, they die)
you and i cannot fly

cry
cry!
oh mother of death!
let the quilt that you wrap 'round our souls
rise out of mass graves
(churches and banks)
to suffocate all for which you give thanks
to halt the advance of the bloodthirsty ranks
and smother, smother, (smother!)

begin!

change?terror
love?never
smoke and the sun are all that remains
but it rains
it rains
sweet and furious it rains
dark and glorious it rains

and
slowly
i bare my palm to the ground

and so i go

i go to love recklessly
i go to expand my mind and my soul and my heart
i go to slide down slippery slopes of snow on a piece of wood
i go to learn to live outside myself
i go to kick myself out of my comfort zone
i go to free my soul
i go to break out of the bubble like escaping from jail
i go to be truly myself, where none knows any different
i go to share myself
i go to commune with strangers' souls
i go to defy my own expectations for myself
i go to live truly
i go to immerse myself in a different universe
i go to get away
i go to move on
i go to be free
i go to find beauty and meaning
i go to capture the same in various arts
i go so far
i go to argentina
today

and so i forsake thee temporarily, dear lemming tree
it seems that you shall be out of season
be ready, for though i go to charge off the cliffs
i'll be back
in a hot air balloon
with no regard for cliffs

our last moment together

they call, they come, they call
heart of leather, words an awl

kingdom: intro

welcome.
welcome, fine guests, to my dark kingdom--
my evil empire (lake of fire)
walls of dire inky black
black more vibrant than any night sky
ever wished to lack
black with purpose
black with memory
black that knows my soul
as the river knows the barren peaks
whose purity it stole.

yet look no more! agape, aghast
upon these hell-washed bricks--
no sum of wide-eyed moments passed
could ever buy the fix--
instead
set sail from under the shadow
cast by time's decrepit machine
let wonder's winds and wisdom's waves
propel this boat of dreams
to a land (that seems so) far away
to a city lit up like the day
by fireworks in constant play
a place so full of joy, (they say)
thunderstorms know to stay at bay
and the gods grant the gardens eternal may.

unreal/goodbye/sadness

a movie entitled "Time Flies"
watched on the screen of my eyes
unreal-- epic hugs and goodbyes

over: i find
no rewind

Solitario

,

beautiful apprentice of my dear delight
spare me not any joy tonight

tree

i am a cross left by the road
i am a paper bearing deadly last goodbyes
i am a fan blade spinning round and round and round

i am the one that lets you breathe

proud of

Maybe I can find a way to use photography to be able to go to shows for free and photograph them!

you are

i am the river and you are the gravity
you are the moontide and i am the helpless sea
you are the rain and i am a dying tree

you are the bird that flees from safety that it might be truly free

Battle

There's this war in me between enjoying my freedoms and wanting so badly to live again in that beautiful cage...

A Love Story: Part One

loved ones lost to the tuna-fisher's net,
home polluted by wasteful creatures of no regret
alone and doubting, i could do nothing but fret
until, kind eyes and patches, we met.

i understand, my savannah's been burned
my livelihood spurned
despair and spite often adjourned
but with you here, my luck's been incredibly turned!

Earth D'eh / Death of Beauty

It's Earth Day. I should be excited. Excited that I can make a difference, that there's as much beauty left on this planet as there is, that I'm alive.

I'm not. I'm too lost in the collective labyrinth of apathy, comfortability, and selfishness. I say I want to do something but I don't. I say all I want for my life is to make a difference, and sometimes I make little mini-efforts and succeed in very small and finite moments, but I don't do anything lasting.

Tomorrow's two weeks since the end of my relationship with the most uniquely amazing girl I've ever met. It was a deep, beautiful, and incredible one, and its death was not close to being my choice. Her reasons were understandable and perhaps I'll come to see that it was for the best, but that doesn't quell the immense disconnect in my broken heart. Thoughts of her fill nearly every moment of thought that I have. I can't stop remembering all the dreams and touches and words. Who knows how long until I'm able to let go...

Joy and Sorrow

"The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain." -Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

I hope its true, because sorrow is carving into my being.

Blood

The more you've given, the harder the end hurts.

I drew these bars.

I am caged by my own assumptions. I fail to act on my dreams because i believe the very things i profess to throw away. I accept the the things that hold me back. Entertain them, even. And it's so subconscious, it's so sneaky, it's such a worm. Why do I do the things I do?

THE VOICES. THEY TELL ME. And I listen, but why? Fuck.

I need to be alright with my brokenness. I need to find oneness with something better and rise on its wings, because mine don't work.

The flood, the voices, they halt the unity. Soul flying is all I want, but how can I fly with this fog of everything that's been told me, everything around me, everything in me. I hate how so much of who I am is formed by things not under my control. Control. Why do I need control? Why am I always struggling to be right, to look good, to feel superlative?

I must find the way to be at peace with myself, to feel oneness truly, to wear the sunset instead of just look at it. There's so many things that I want that I'm not willing to put in the effort to find. Or I'm being held back by invisible forces on my subconscious, or maybe I'm really OK and this is all just a painful process...

Imagining

backlit, ominous, sinister-
it looms and i
set off alarms in my head,
take a backward step-
yet i am frozen by its stare.

the vacuum
dark hall
late night.

now a SCREAM!
deep from its bowels
and it careens toward me.
faster and faster
out of control
it wants me and grows
along with its desire.

and now a red glow
a roar
in its rollers of death
i see too close
teeth and hair of friends!

and i run
the remaining few feet between us
with open arms.

Conquistador

And off it is to Spain for Spring Break, to conquer my demons, to sing songs I don't believe the words of, to bond with friends old and new, to find out if this is love, to explore, to adventure...

For Night But Not Sleep

an eyelash falls
and so does the window
from which it took flight--
longing for night
but not for sleep
longing for dreams
of the dark and deep
of moments so pure
infinite and sweet
of love that would render
my heart complete.

"You're obliged to pretend respect for people and institutions you think absurd. You live attached in a cowardly fashion to moral and social conventions you despise, condemn, and know lack all foundation. It is that permanent contradiction between your ideas and desires and all the dead formalities and vain pretenses of your civilization which makes you sad, troubled and unbalanced. In that intolerable conflict you lose all joy of life and all feeling of personality, because at every moment they suppress and restrain and check the free play of your powers. That'€™s the poisoned and mortal wound of the civilized world." - Octave Mirbeau

Purple Pineapples

once upon a time, there was a person.

the person like to paint themselves with purple pineapples.

every morning, the person dipped his brush in purple paint

pineapples danced on purple shores

and the person smiled

because it made him happy.

-Janna Wagner

Blur

It's a beautiful blur
She lifts my soul
It's uncharted waters from here
But this is what ships were made for.

Blue

I am a flying into darkness, or is it peace?

Warnings

I don't know what it means. I only know that today there is something wrong.

Always Listening

And I wonder, are they always listening? How long will it be until our rights are so smeared in Patriot Acts and the like that they become unrecognizable? How much of our freedom will we give to preserve our lives?

But is not life worthless without freedom?

Cage

I was observing the rabbit in the science lab during chemistry today. Mr. Rabs has about three feet by three feet by two feet to roam, and a little shelf half as large with a ramp up to it, just in case he wants a view or some thrills. As I watched him trudging about his confines, I imagined him bounding across the prairie, or poking around the moss in a shady forest, or nestling up to his soulmate in a cozy rabbit hole. I imagined him happy and joyful, and the contrast was so sharp. I felt such a sadness for his plight, and then I started thinking about zoos and how I don't think I'll ever take my kids to the zoo. Just the fact that we're humans and they're animals doesn't give us license to take away their freedom. They need to runnnnn freeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!

And so do I.

Doom

Sometimes, the smiles are the symptoms.

Audience

I find that art brings the most joy when done purely for the sake of doing it, not for an audience or to gain recognition or to make money. When Matt and I play together on Mondays, our jams can go for 15 minutes, just lost in the music, playing our hearts out, and it's so beautiful. One time we told a few friends passing to stay and hear this new song, promising that it would be good, and we played it, but it didn't feel right and the notes were wrong and it just wasn't pure.

As soon as there's an audience expecting to be entertained, something changes. It's like we're a company, and they're consumers.

I know I want to share that joy with people, though. Busking must be the answer!

Optimistic

There is a sort of wandering optimism making its way through me today. How do I make it a fixture instead of a feeling, one that I know could prove to be fleeting so easily?

There's something about being "liked" that gives one more confidence and more optimism.

There's something about being loved that makes everything OK, even when the aforementioned are nonexistent.

From The Prophet by Khalil Gibran:

Only another breath will I breathe in this still air, only another loving look cast backward,
Then I shall stand among you, a seafarer among seafarers.
And you, vast sea, sleepless mother,
Who alone are peace and freedom to the river and the stream,
Only another winding will this stream make, only another murmur in this glade,
And then shall I come to you, a boundless drop to a boundless ocean.

The man's writing nearly defines beauty. It uplifts my soul. I'm only 10 pages into The Prophet and I am in love with it already. Read!
















I will reach to the sky. I will reach through the confusion. I will reach my dreams.

Normalcy

My number one fear is that I will become normal. That I will listen to the voices and be rocked to sleep by their toxic lullabies. That I will fail to make this longing for adventure and love and wandering and joy and freedom from tradition and freedom from fear and freedom from the voices anything more than just a longing.

To Be Wanted

This touched me a bit, or something. From XKCD.com

[Dan]gerous

And if our ideas are dangerous, it is because we are those who love to live dangerously. And if our dreams are mad, it is because we are mad. But our madness is supreme wisdom. But our ideas are the heart of life; but our thoughts are the beacons of humanity. -Renzo Novatore

3:43 AM

there's something about couches
that makes you want to slide down a little further
let your head fall a little closer
abandon all plans to play hard-to-get
but then you realize

there's no one there.

People I Wish I Knew

Today I drove home from Michigan. I was a little tired, but not really having to fight to stay awake, because driving can be interesting if you make it. Sometimes I sneak a quick glance at the people in the cars I pass or that pass me, or I imagine what the people look like even though I can't see them. (Definitely influenced by their ride!) And then I wonder what their lives are like and what's important to them and if they're happy or sad. I wish that I could talk to them, hear their stories. And somehow when I actually have chances to talk to people that I don't know, I keep to myself, and I don't know why.

I saw something awesome today: a minivan with bright colored Christmas lights strung throughout the roof rack! I was so proud of those people, and I was so incredibly thankful that people like them exist, and even as I write this I'm not sure what was so special about it, it just was. It was inspiring, and it made me want to go caroling this summer.

Cheers!

2008: The Best Thing Since Sliced Mice!

The new year is here, and I wonder what it will bring. I wonder what great music and art will be created, what new relationships will be formed, what adventures will be undertaken, what losses will come.

This year, I want to really think all the time. To question all the time. To love truly, to create amazing things, to adventure, to take risks. I can't just coast through the days mindlessly like I've been doing way too much.

[interlude! i just thought of something awesome! ready? "I planned my past tomorrow." OK that's all :) ]

I know that the world is so much bigger than I realize. There's so much to learn, so much to discover. So much beauty and so many amazing people. I guess I'm looking forward to getting out of the bubble that I'm currently in. It could happen this summer. Stay tuned. :))

Happy 2008, all, like, 2 of you...